I was born into a world already watched over by Kristina. She was only one year old when I arrived, and I still remember how our first moments together unfolded. My mom returned from the hospital holding me, and Kristina looked at me, then back at my mom, then back at me again. Shocked, confused, and maybe a little hurt, she slapped me. That moment, though small in the world's eyes, was the start of something profound—our lifelong bond.
At first, Kristina didn't know what to make of me. I was tiny, crying, and completely dependent on our mom. She watched me carefully, sometimes from a distance, trying to understand what this new little person meant for her world. She felt a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and perhaps even jealousy—but underneath it all was something greater: a sense of responsibility she didn't yet fully understand.
As days turned into weeks, Kristina began to get used to me. She would poke my tiny hands, make silly faces to make me laugh, and sometimes pat my head in a way that felt protective. She didn't yet speak many words, but her actions already carried love. Slowly, she began to understand that I was her little brother, someone she would watch over, teach, and protect.
I, too, felt her presence. Even as a baby, I recognized her energy—soft, strong, and watchful. I felt safer when she was near. Little did I know, that tiny girl who slapped me on my first day would become my closest companion, my guide, and my protector in the years to come.
We spent countless hours just being together—lying side by side, listening to our mom, and discovering the world in our small ways. Kristina would sometimes get frustrated with me, her tiny hands pushing me away if I cried too loudly or reached for her toys. Yet, she never left my side completely. She was learning to love me, even as she learned how to navigate the new reality of having a sibling.
Those first months were filled with moments of discovery, laughter, and small lessons in life. I was learning to trust, to cry, to smile, and to respond to her presence. She was learning patience, empathy, and the first sparks of the protective instincts that would define her character. By the end of that first year, I wasn't just her baby brother anymore; I was her responsibility, her companion, and the start of a lifelong connection that would shape both of our lives in ways we couldn't yet imagine.
Even now, I look back on that first day and remember the slap, the shock, the curiosity, and the quiet moments of understanding between us. That day set the stage for everything that followed—the laughter, the protection, the lessons, the love, and the bond that would never be broken.